Company
by hannahbbug3
Summary: This time, they were not alone on the balcony. He could feel the eyes of the others watching them. She was tense in his arms. He was quiet. Sequal to Accident, Impulse, Affection. SorenxLucia, Soren-centric.


The party had been on just the sort of night that he would've liked to spend alone. The air had a biting, frosty edge that stabbed the inside of his lungs and coaxed the skin of his arms to prick. Winter felt almost like a friend, a traitorous, backstabbing, beautiful friend. Ice hung in the air in small, exhaled clouds as his group passed under an archway and into the glowing interior of the warm castle walls.

He wondered why anyone would hold a celebration in the season. Snow was beautiful, to the innocent; but he had felt the chill of the misery and darkness that winter pulled along with her. In fact, winter had been his friend for but a short time, now that he had a home from which he could observe her from indoors. But this fact didn't change what he had seen (and known himself firsthand), and she may have been the source of the ice that had settled in his heart. He despised this season.

And maybe he had been wrong. The more he ruminated and brooded over the night selected for the party, the more he realized that being alone was the last thing he wanted. The only reason he'd elected to attend the celebration was because the others had, as well. And while he did not wish for company, neither did he wish to be alone on a winter night.

After this revelation, he had to remind himself more than once that he was not here for company. He winced as two sets of legs skipped by him, the boy and girl hand in hand, singing "Fa la la la la, la la la la!" He dusted the snow off the hem of his cloak, and wandered over towards the corner. A familiar purple headed woman was attempting to coax a shy, russet haired young man under the mistletoe, and the man was doing a horrible job of pretending to be unaware of her. _Just go on_, the man in the corner thought, _everyone already knows._

He pulled his cloak a little closer and settled himself in the corner of his selection, far thrown from the celebration and food and mistletoe. He reminded himself once again that this was the place he had chosen to be tonight, and that he didn't mind being only an observer. He had taken in everything from the outside his whole life. And tonight was no different than any other night. He watched, bemused as his best friend took the Queen's hand and led her to another corner of the room. The two stood close, the man talking in quick murmurs to her with a gentle smile and the woman grinning and laughing lightly. The man, alone across the room, smiled slightly at his friend's merriment. He wasn't a bah-humbug sort; maybe he didn't participate in the festivities, but he didn't make any move to hinder the others from their celebration.

His ruby eyes gazed over to another corner. In passing, he took in the fact that the purple haired woman had her arms flung around the healer from before; was she… yes, he saw the three empty glasses at her feet, and the healer was too kind to push her away. The two young carolers had settled down with plates of food, and the boy's older brother had casually stretched his arm around the brunette and she didn't mind. The archer whom he hated was grudgingly being led around the room by his blond companion towards a cluster of giggling ladies. The two paladins he knew well were mingling with the Royal Knights; he could hear half of their conversation from where he was.

"Squinty eyed fiend! I cannot believe this! You've… you've seduced her! How dare you try and … ah!"

The green haired man whom the red knight was screaming at ignored him, and continued his idle chatter with the dark haired bow woman. He took her hand gently in his, and the boisterous one yelled.

"No! Lady Astrid! He is not a Royal Knight! He is not worthy!"

The mage averted his attention (to try and avoid the ensuing headache that would've come if he had continued watching the knights) back to his best friend, who had led the Queen onto the dance floor for what he was sure would be the first of many dances. They were so close…

And yet, the mage remained alone. He had not come for company.

A light hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

Recognition of the sweet, gentle voice caused the corners of his mouth to turn upwards. His crimson eyes lifted to meet sapphires.

"You're wearing the same thing," she chided lightly.

"Green, I'm told, is the color of the holiday," he retorted. Then, in a softer tone, "You recognized me this time."

He saw her cheeks darken. "I was expecting you this time."

Silence fell. Their second conversation was easier, but much less comfortable. He knew why.

"You said you'd visit," she started, her eyes downcast.

"What am I doing now?"

"I thought you meant sooner." Her tone was firm, accusing. He tried to deflect the tension.

"Lucia."

"Soren?"

"Dance with me?"

"All… all right."

He smiled (you could hardly tell) as she accepted his hand. This time, they were not alone on the balcony. He could feel the eyes of the others watching them. He tried to recollect the feelings that had leapt in his heart on that last occasion, but they would not come. She was tense in his arms. He was quiet.

"…you said you'd visit."

He tensed, trying once again to avert the grim, hard look in her eyes. "I was busy."

"That's not an excuse."

"There are eleven people I have to keep track of."

"You could've made time if you wanted to," she accused. He shivered at the ice in her voice.

"I tried," he protested feebly. The song had ended, and he tried to escape back to his corner. She gripped his shoulder tightly, denying him.

"Did you?"

The music didn't start again, but he didn't think she noticed. She was dancing to the rhythm of her angrily beating heart, and she was dragging him along with her.

"Yes," he affirmed.

"Then why didn't you come?"

"I was busy!"

"That's not an excuse!" Her voice rose, and all the eyes that had already been on them widened.

"Lucia! It's over!" the mage cried. At her startled cry, he realized the implied (but unintended) meaning those words carried, and he quickly clarified. "The song! The song's over! Let… go!" he pulled away from her grip and stumbled a few paces back. He looked up at her face to find it expressionless.

Her hand caught him off guard. She whirled around and headed for the exit, leaving him alone, stunned, in the middle of the room (with a stinging cheek).

From the corner of his eye, he saw a couple break apart. The woman disappeared after her sister, and the man came over to him. He expected a scolding, but his friend apparently thought that the backhanding had been enough.

"What?" there was no accusation in the confused tone of his best friend. The mage shifted his weight from foot to foot to fill the span of silence. Finally, he answered.

"I despise this season."

His friend sighed. "I know."

The two retreated to the corner as the partygoers resumed what they had been doing before. The mage rested himself back on his previously occupied stool. His friend moved off, then returned with mugs of eggnog for them both. He took the cup, but did not drink, knowing he had taking the Queen's place.

"I apologize for ruining your evening, Ike."

"It's fine. You're upset."

"No, I—"

"I know you, Soren." There was a pause. "So… you and Lucia?"

The mage sighed. "She appears to think so."

"Hm," was the only reply as the two women reemerged from the doorway. One took the hand of the red haired knight (to his exuberance) and the other came over.

"Evening, Queen Elincia," the mage addressed her formally.

"Any luck?" his friend asked. She shook her head, but directed her answer to the other.

"I'm sorry, Soren.:

"Never mind." A new song started, and the couple standing in front of him shifted. He caught the movement and waved them off. "Go on," he encouraged. They accepted the dismissal and moved hand in hand to the center of the floor.

He tried to ignore the glimpses of blue and red that he saw, and was convinced of his own wild imagination when he saw their faces close, and closed his eyes as they moved into a corner, the knight's arms around _his_ lady…

But what did he care? He hadn't come for company.


End file.
